


Clear as Day

by Jove_Belle



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/F Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jove_Belle/pseuds/Jove_Belle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tasha waits until Jane really sees her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Blindspot. I do own my computer. And my brain. But this is strictly not-for-profit, purely-for-fun kind of writing.

The punch came in hard and fast, with enough deadly precision to jolt Tasha out of her daydream. Jane was the ultimate mystery. She didn’t know herself, didn’t know her body, and yet, at the same time, she knew her abilities and limits better than anyone else Tasha’d ever seen.

When she thought about it, Jane questioned everything. But when she got out of her own head for even the slightest moment and allowed herself to trust her instincts, she was brutally efficient.

Tasha feinted left and swept around with a hard jab from her right. Jane neatly stepped away, turning her body to avoid the punch. When she turned back just as quickly, she led with her fist. Tasha dropped to the mat and kicked out, catching Jane with a glancing blow to her calf. Had Tasha been a half a second slower, she would have been the one knocked flat to the ground by Jane’s punch rather than the other way around.

Before Tasha could press the advantage, Jane flipped herself into a standing position. She bounced on the balls of her feet and gave Tasha an almost feral grin. She loved this dance as much as Tasha. Too bad she didn’t count it as foreplay the same way Tasha did. After a sparring session with Jane, Tasha was a mess. She needed a prolonged shower to work out the kinks in her muscles and to work herself through all the fantasies involving her and Jane and a whole different kind of kink.

Jane abandoned her fighting stance with a wild banshee yelp and full-body tackled Tasha. Caught off guard, Tasha fell to the mat with an inelegant thump. Jane landed on top of her, laughing the entire time.

“Sorry.” Jane braced herself over Tasha, one hand on either side of her head. Slowly, her smile faded until all that was left was the serious quiet as she stared hard at Tasha as if she thought Tasha was the mystery, instead of herself.

They stayed like that long enough for Tasha to catch her breath, long enough for her to forget where they were and how they got into this position. She was trapped by the intensity of Jane’s gaze, afraid to so much as blink because it might break whatever this moment was they were suspended in.

Without thinking—because if she thought about it, she’d talk herself out of it—Tasha lifted up until she was close enough to kiss. She could feel Jane’s breath on her lips, puffing out in hot bursts as her breathing grew more rapid, more shallow.

Jane settled over Tasha, resting her weight more fully against her as she brushed a hand over Tasha’s cheek. Tasha suppressed a groan, and the weight of Jane’s body pressed her into the floor and put pressure in some truly fabulous places.

“Tasha…” Jane had that quizzical look on her face that said she was trying to understand something new about herself. It was the same look she had when she realized she could break down and re-assemble an assault rifle faster than most people could figure out how to fire off one round—all with her eyes closed. Or when she realized that she could kill a human being in too many ways to count without ever drawing a weapon. It was that same mix of pride, surprise, and horror shading Jane’s eyes as she lowered her face the last little distance to press her lips carefully to Tasha’s.

The groan Tasha’d been holding back rolled out of her, much louder and longer than was decent considering all they’d done so far was kiss. Not even a proper, lips-parted, tongue involved kiss, but the kind that passed for scandalous at a seventh-grade dance.

Tasha buried her hands in Jane’s hair and pulled her in for another kiss, a proper kiss. She let herself luxuriate in it, getting lost in the sweet mint lingering on Jane’s breath as she glided her tongue smoothly into Tasha’s mouth.

When they finally pulled away, Jane looked at her with clear understanding. The blindspot that surrounded everything she did was pulled back. In that moment, she seemed to see Tasha the way Tasha always saw Jane. No matter how clouded everything else was around them, Jane always shined, clear as day.


	2. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tash has to believe it's enough.

When she sleeps, Tasha traces the ink, following the dips and curves and contours of Jane's body. She keeps her touch soft, barely grazing her skin. Jane murmurs when she skims over her breasts, curls into Tasha when she strokes her neck, and sighs when she curves her fingers around her back. Tasha never gets enough time to explore Jane, to feel the subtle ridges of her tattoos where the ink is thick.

After work, Tasha goes home and Jane goes... Tasha doesn't know where Jane goes. Her own place, she guesses. Always with a detail to keep this lethal, blank page of a woman safe. Then, when Tasha's on the verge of sleep, Jane shows up, tapping softly at her door as if unsure she wants to knock at all. And all Tasha can do is open the door with a heavy, satisfied exhale because she's finally able to breath again. 

Jane always arrives after dinner, after Tasha's exhausted herself at the gym, pounded the hell out of the heavy bag. She's tired, barely able to think about all the reasons it's absolutely disaster for Jane to come knocking on her door. Jane looks like Tasha feels, as if the string of days of chasing smoke and clues that will forever be a part of her is slowly grinding down all her sharp edges, leaving Jane soft, bruised, and braced for the next blow.

The air conditioning kicks on, and Jane shifts until her body is flush with Tasha's. Not quite waking, but more aware than just sleeping, too. That's the way Jane functions, acting on instinct rather than learned rules of conduct. She analyzes everything, tries to outthink herself. It's only when she stops thinking and starts acting that she finds her true grace. She moves like nothing Tasha's ever seen before. She's effortlessly beautiful, deadly, beguiling. Sometimes all three at once.

Tasha kisses her shoulder, tries to find a place that's all Jane and no ink, but it's impossible. Just like every other part of her body, there are brief peeks of smooth, perfect skin. Mostly, though, Jane is that blackish-blue color of ink bleeding out from precise, beautiful lines.

"Mmm." Jane hums, stirring the second--or maybe the third--time Tasha presses her lips to the cove where Jane's neck meets her shoulder. Jane opens one eye, sleepy but more awake than before. "Why are you up?"

She asks the question but doesn't wait for an answer as she pushes Tasha onto her back and hovers over her. Her hair, short and curly in a way that makes Tasha want to weave her fingers through it, falls around them. Tasha stares at Jane, her gaze darting between Jane's eyes and her mouth, her lips. Jane's tongue slips out; she licks her lips, the closest thing to a nervous tick that Jane has. A moment later, her mouth in on Tasha's.

Jane kisses hungrily, as if she's trying to learn Tasha, commit her to memory. As if she's afraid someone will take Tasha away, along with all her other memories. And Tasha lets her, peeling back her own layers until she's stripped bare. When Jane looks at her like this, Tasha's vulnerable in a way she's never allowed herself to be before. And yet, somehow, in that exposure, she's also the safest she's ever been.

"You should sleep." Tasha tries to slow things, to soothe the frantic urgency in Jane's touch.

Jane only kisses her harder. "I'd rather do this." And with that she slides inside Tasha, taking her mouth as she curls her fingers to find that perfect spot.

"Oh..." That's her last coherent thought--that she should have let Jane sleep, but she's really glad she didn't. Jane slows, staring into Tasha's eyes as she seemingly catalogs her every response.

She's relentless, dedicated, determined. Hell, she's methodical as she fucks Tasha, and it's too much and not enough and all Tasha wants to do is close her eyes and let herself feel everything Jane's doing to her. She's together, then she's flying, completely deconstructed and not sure if she'll every figure out how to draw the particles that make her, her back together again.

Jane kisses her softly, almost chastely. "That's much better than sleep." She brings her fingers to her mouth, the ones that were, until just a moment ago, deep inside Tasha, slowly tearing her apart. One by one, she sucks them clean, her mouth curved into a salacious grin.

Tasha nods dumbly, the edges of her vision still dark and blurry. "Much better."

Jane rolls to her side and manhandles Tasha until their situated with Jane as big spoon to Tasha's little one. She kisses just behind Tasha's ear, but it's quick. Perfunctory. 

"Now sleep."

Tasha nods, finally giving in to another night of pretending they're a happy couple doing happy couple things. Maybe tomorrow Jane will remember this, the way she feels in the dark, naked and drifting to sleep with the taste of Tasha on her lips. Probably, though, she'll forget, reverting to the empty vault of detached, cool professional just like she did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. 

For now, all Tasha can hope for is another soft knock at her door after a day of distance and forgetting. And somehow, she has to believe that is enough.


End file.
